Tainted
by effyrodriguez
Summary: With the upcoming birth all seems well. But trouble lies ahead for Mary and Matthew. Will their marriage survive?
1. Chapter 1

The footman stands stiffly in the corner as Mary and Lord Gratham sit around the table, faces solemn.

Lord Gratham is reading the _Harrogate Advertiser_ while he takes small sips of his tea.

Mary sets her cup gently on the table. "I'm going to visit Dr. Clarkson late this afternoon." As the words leave her lips she feels the uncomfortable silence dissipate.

Gratham raises his eyebrow and averts his eyes away from the paper. "Should I be worried?"

"No don't be."

Her father watches as she slowly runs her long elegant fingers down her face. "May I know what it's about?"

She lets out a huge sigh."It's rather hard to explain but I'm sure nothing is wrong."

"Have you told Matthew?"

Mary looks down at her lap, presses her lips into a thin line. "No, I don't want to worry him. He's been so anxious lately now that the baby's coming."

"I understand." Her father nods his head in agreement and goes back to reading his paper.

* * *

Dr. Clarkson has been at his desk only a minute when someone knocks softly at his door.

He strides up to the door, opens it, and his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Lady Mary."

"Good morning Dr. Clarkson." She drags her feet as she walks into the room. He follows right behind her. "You seem a bit surprised."

He plops himself down in the chair and folds his arms across his chest. She makes an annoyed sigh and plops down in the chair across from him. "I'd admit I wasn't expecting your presence until four weeks from now." Taking a steadying breath he raises an eyebrow, noting the pale complexion. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, the baby seems perfectly healthy but recently I've been having this dream…about the baby." She places her hands over her enormous belly, closing her eyes. "For some reason I feel I should tell you."

She begins speaking softy. He gets up and paces around the room.

"…..and the last thing I see is the baby lying in a puddle of blood."

He stops pacing and sits back down on the edge of the chair. "It's nothing you should fret about. It's common that you would dream about the baby. Usually dreams are based on what's been on our minds and with the upcoming birth I would find it more unlikely if you didn't have a dream like this one. And after everything with Lady Sybil…forgive me I didn't mean to…"

"It's quite alright." She gives him a nervous smile. "I should be going now." Dr. Clarkson grabs her arm to assist her in getting out of the chair. As she's walking out of his office she turns around and says, "Thank you Dr. Clarkson."

He nods his head. "Take care."

* * *

Her head pounded and it felt as if there was a heavy fog in her head. Slowly she made her way down, with each step pain vibrated through her body.

Black spots blurred her vision, causing her to panic. Losing her grip on the rail, she slipped and fell down several stairs. She had landed on her stomach and was experiencing extremely severe, sharp, stabbing abdominal pains.

Mary let out a piercing scream that could be heard for a long distance. Cora hearing the scream, rushed into the room. Everyone else ran in a few seconds later. Mary lay motionless at the bottom of the stairs, her body crumpled and unconscious.

Lord Gratham fell to his knees beside Mary and clasped his daughter to his chest. "Dear God."

Cora turns toward her daughter. "Edith. Go ring Dr. Clarkson, quickly."


	2. Chapter 2

As they lay quietly side by side, Matthew reaches out to touch her hand, but Mary pulls away. She turns her face away from him.

He sits up in the bed with a blank stare on his face. Slowly, he gets up from the bed and walks over to the door. Then he steps out and slams the door shut. Mary pulls herself into a fetal position and trembles.

* * *

Tension is thick in the air as Tom and Lord Grantham gather around the table for breakfast. The two men sit in silence for a while.

Tom grips his tea cup until his knuckles turn white. He keeps his eyes on Lord Grantham as he brings the cup to his lips. He moves his eyes to the footman who had began to serve them breakfast and then looks back at him with an intimidating scowl on his face.

Swallowing the lump tightening his throat, Lord Grantham is the first to break the silence.

"Do to the recent circumstances, I'd think it be best to exclude Matthew from our plans with the tenants this afternoon."

Tom sets his cup down with a deep sigh. His scowl disappears. "I'm not sure I agree with you. I think he needs to be out and about and not kept in the dark."

Lord Grantham at first looks as if he is going to disagree but then nods his head in agreement "Poor lad surrounded by all this grief. This was the last thing he needed. He had such a bright future ahead of him. And now he's moping around, dragging my poor daughter into it.…."

"Is this what you think of me?" Matthew says with a blank expression on his face.

He approaches the men at the table and sits on the other side of Tom. The two men stare in shock. "Matthew, my dear boy."

"I'm coming with you." He murmurs under his breath.

"You can't possibly think…"

Matthew slams his fist on the table but says nothing. A silent tear traces its way down his cheek.

* * *

Thomas could hear sobbing coming from the darkness. Cautiously, he makes his way down the hall, checking each room. The sobs get louder as he approaches the drawing room. He leans closer to the door, straining to hear. He takes his hand and jingles the doorknob.

As he slowly pushes open the door to the room, he could see the distinct outline of a figure. The man sits on the edge of a chair, oblivious to the footman's presence.

He begins to rock back and forth as sobs wrack his body.

Thomas creeps silently to the man and takes several seconds to admire the beautiful sight of a broken man weeping before him. He kneels down in front of him, placing his hands on his shoulders.

When his eyes meet his, he sees that his clear blue eyes are now cold and empty.

"I know it's not my place to say but shouldn't you be with Lady Mary."

He closes his eyes, wrapping his arms tighter around himself. "She doesn't want to see me." Matthew says bitterly.

His eyes widen. "What?"

"It's all my fault. If I was there I could have…" He lets out a choked sob.

Seeing him in such a vulnerable state feels weird to him. "There's nothing you could have done sir. Don't go blaming yourself."

The room is silent for a few minutes.

Thomas gets up from the floor and turns to leave but he grabs his arm. "Stay."

He looks down at their hands locked together. "Sir?"

Matthew slowly runs his hand across his clothed chest and down to his covered thighs.

His breathing hitches slightly.

Matthew's other hand clutches at his shirt, his hands seeking out comfort. "I…Mary, please."

Hearing this, Thomas manages to snap out of his trance. He quickly pushes him away. "Sir I'm sorry but I can't…not tonight…not with everything's that's happened."

Thomas feels as if the room is spinning around. He bolts out of the room and down the hall, his footsteps echoing across the floor.

There, up ahead, he spots the door. He makes a mad dash for the door, snagging his coat on the way, and heads outside. Once outside, he leans against the wall, one hand clutching his head.

He fumbles about his pockets, trying to find his cigarettes. His hand clutches the cigarette, taking a long drag. He lets out a shaky sigh.

* * *

A damp chill clings to the air as Tom makes his way over to the door, his breathing is heavy and labored. There's a soft cough behind him, and he whirls around to see Thomas leaning against the brick wall. He nearly trips over his own feet, but manages to steady himself. Thomas looks paler than usual, and the hand he holds the cigarette with is shaking.

"Are you alright Mr. Barrow?"

Thomas keeps his eyes on the ground. "Mr. Barrow?"

He drops his cigarette to the floor and dramatically snuffs it out with his shoe."Bloody hell! Would you just shut it!" Tom glares at him, disappointed. With a sigh, he runs one hand across his coat. "Yes, I'm fine." Thomas looks up at bloodshot eyes, he gives him a curious look.

"I think it'd be wise if you'd come inside. You'll catch a cold if you stay any longer."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not bloody stupid." Being so close to Tom he could literally smell alcohol from him. "Why are you here anyways?"

Stumbling backward just slightly he takes a flask out of his jacket pocket and takes a swig, extending the flask to Thomas. Gladly taking the flask Thomas gives Tom a nasty look before chugging it down quickly."I'd just come from the pub. Thought it'd be easier to come through the back."

Thomas hands the nearly empty flask back to Tom. "You're wasting their time."

His eyebrows furrow. "Pardon?"

"They're never going to accept you so I don't see the point of staying here any longer."

He swallows and lowers his head slightly, avoiding to look at Thomas. "You'd never understand."

"Good night Mr. Branson." Thomas says with a smirk before going inside and shutting the door. He then leans back against the door and lets out a huge sigh. He tries not to think about his encounter with Matthew, but images flood his mind. He sinks down on the floor and tears begin to pour down his cheeks.

* * *

As dawn approaches Mary lies awake in bed. For a long time she tosses and turns, unable to sleep. Lying on her left side, she gazes at the candle burning brightly on her dresser. Her eyes then glance at the vase of roses beside it.

She hears the door open, and with slow and faltering steps Tom stumbles into the room. She sits up slowly on her elbows, and looks straight at him. "Tom?"

She intently watches his face as he turns the brightest red she had ever seen. "Are you alright? You look as though you're running a fever."

"I-I'm sorry my Lady." he slurs. "I didn't mean to disturb you." He sways a bit and Mary rushes toward him, pulling him into her arms. Losing her balance, they clumsily fall back onto her bed, him falling right on top of her.

Tom slowly tries to get off her. He stops, and they both stare in each other eyes. He hesitates. She touches his face. Closing his eyes, he gladly leans into her touch.

He moves closer, so that their noses are touching. And when he opens his eyes she gasps as she could see the dark-filled lust. He lowers his head and presses his face between her breasts. Her hands cup each side of his face. He looks up worriedly. She tries to give him a reassuring smile and he begins to remove her silky red night gown.

* * *

A/N: So that's it. What did you all think? R&R!


	3. Chapter 3

Tom groans slightly as the cold air hits his bare chest. His head is pounding, a mere discomfort, and his limbs feel heavy and sluggish. He rolls over, looks at the slender sleeping figure beside him. She lies flat on her back, her hair tangled wildly against the pillow. He gazes closely at her relaxed face, her cheeks were hollow. Now and then her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks. 'My darling,' he whispers and sighs with a smile. He props himself up against the headboard, yawning a bit and rubbing his eyes.

The memories come flooding back. His smile fades and his face brightens red. Trying not to wake her, he inches toward the edge of the bed. He stands up, a dull pain in his head, and puts his hand to his head. As he tiptoes toward the door, his heart pounds in his chest. He slowly turns the door knob and feels the door open a crack. He looks over his shoulder at her. She stirs a bit, rolls over on her side, and calmly sleeps on. He silently thanks the Lord on the way out.

A frown graces his features as he walks back to his room. Unbeknownst to him, Thomas had been silently watching him from a distance.

He emerges from the shadows of the hallway, his lips curl into a devilish smile. Suddenly Thomas hears the sound of running water. He feels a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He looks about, trying to find the source of the sound. Walking to the end of the hallway, he approaches the last room, the loo.

His body tenses up and he moves closer to the door. He almost slips but quickly catches his balance and looks down at the hallway floor. There is a big puddle of water outside the door. He tries the door, but it's locked. He knocks but there's no reply. He knocks again, this time more persistent.

"Whoever's in there, are you okay?" he asks. No reply.

He scans up and down the hallway, relieved to find no one within earshot. He lets out a deep breath and rolls up his sleeves. He busts open the door with his shoulder. He runs in and sees the water still running in the big bathtub, overflowing onto the floor.

As he approaches he begins to feel his stomach muscles twitch and tighten. He quickly turns his head away from the sight. Matthew lies there quietly, not moving in the water, which must be cooling by now.

He could feel the burning of vomit rising in his throat and he swallows it back. He quickly regains control and rushes over to him. Heaving with all his might, he pulls the unconscious man from the tub. He looks, listens and feels for a pulse. It is weak. He pinches his nose, tilts his head back. He seals his mouth over his. There is no response. It is at this moment that tiny beads of sweat begin to form upon his brow.

He begins applying chest compressions with the heel of his hand. "Please don't die on me!"

After several minutes, the frail man coughs, and water gushes out of his mouth.

Thomas wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and breathes a sigh of relief.

The room remains silent for a few seconds, and then feeling the puddle of water they were lying in, he jumps up to his legs.

* * *

Matthew stirs, and then his eyes flutter open. He blinks and begins to take in some of his surroundings.

He stares up at the flat white ceiling. He moves his gaze to a wilted bouquet on the dresser. Finally, his gaze lands on Thomas. He is sitting by the bedside, reading a book.

Tears are forming at his eyes, which he quickly closes when he sees him. "You should have left me to die."

Thomas stares, his mouth agape. "How did you know it was me?"

"Why else would you be here," Matthew says, his voice hoarse.

Closing his book, he sets it down on the floor. He places his hands in his lap."Sir, I know things seem hopeless right now, but you can't just give up."

Matthew merely opens his eyes for an instant and rolls over on his side. Thomas rolls his eyes at his childish behavior. "What would have happened if you'd died. Lady Mary not only would have lost her child, she would have lost her husband too!" He let out a deep breath, trying to bank his anger. "What the bloody hell were you thinking!" he yells at him, his fingers curling into a fist.

"I can't very well be a proper husband if I'm finding comfort elsewhere." His gaze grows distant as he looks out toward the hallway. He flashes the warmest smile he'd ever seen. "And yet, I find myself wishing it had really happened."

Thomas swears to himself while shaking his head in anger. "You're out of your mind, sir. I'm sorry, but whatever you feel for me I cannot share. It would ruin her happiness."

His smile fades a bit. "Very well, then," says Matthew. His face reddens in anger. "Thank you, Thomas, for not letting me make what would have been the biggest mistake of my life." Matthew says, his voice laced with venom.

Then, before he can change his mind, Thomas quickly moves toward the door, shutting the door behind him as he leaves.

* * *

Mary heaves a sigh that becomes a sob as the maid braids her hair. "Are you alright, your Ladyship?"

She swallows back another sob. "I'm quite well thank you."

"Are you sure? You look a little pale, my lady."

"Yes, now will you stop asking silly questions?" she says a bit coldly.

Anna nods her head, giving her a small smile. "Of course, my lady."

Looking into the mirror, she frowns. A hideous, grotesque demon stares back at her. She places her hand on the mirror and jerks it away at feeling its unnatural warmth.

A wave of concern washes through Anna. She places the back of her right hand against her forehead. "Goodness Mary, you're burning up!" She doesn't reply and soon afterwards falls off her chair in a heap on the floor.

* * *

A/N: Ok that's it! What did you all think? R&R!


End file.
